


Compelling Causes

by always_low_battery



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Gen, Goddamnit why the hell is it so hard to think of tags???, Healing, Hiding, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21653941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/always_low_battery/pseuds/always_low_battery
Summary: Richard Goranski had been hiding in plain sight. Other than slight appearances of his SQUIP (or, just his brain tricking him, he hoped), he was doing fine.Until Jake found him, and all hell broke loose.AkaI see a promising idea, take it, and runHonestly just me going batshit with Rich and trauma and seeing how much shit I can pull before I get called out.
Relationships: Jake Dillinger & Rich Goranski, Rich Goranski & Jeremy Heere
Comments: 13
Kudos: 48





	1. Hiding in Plain Sight

**Author's Note:**

> This is self-indulgent, so pay mind to that
> 
> Honestly this is just me taking Rich and shoving as much trauma in his story as fucking possible.
> 
> Fuck me for only jumping on the BMC train a month a go, this musical fucking rocks!
> 
> Anyways, enjoy, I guess

Rich groaned as his phone buzzed beneath his pillow, indicating it was now five in the morning. Sitting up, he gently rubbed his eyes.

It was three months after he was hospitalized. A month since he was released. The beginning of February. 

It felt like an eternity. Hiding in plain sight. Hiding from his friends. Hiding from Jake.

He hated the day he spoke to Jeremy in the hospital. All drugged up and higher than a kite. Not to mention the fact that he was just freed of his SQUIP. Going almost two years with a constant voice in your head then suddenly having it go silent did a number on him.

He hated that he acted so buddy-buddy with him. Like he hadn't done anything wrong. Like, like he hadn't tormented him for a whole year, making life miserable as all hell. Like he hadn't given him a SQUIP. Like he hadn't nearly ruined his life.

God, he was a fuck up. Ravaged everything he touched. An anti-King Midas. Maybe the same, seeing how the story ended. Except he didn't leave behind anything useful. Just a pit of hell on Earth.

That's the only thing he was good at. He had nothing else. Nothing.

Nothing without his SQUIP.

His SQUIP was such a part of his life that he felt empty without it. It was his personality, his identity. Without it, he didn't feel like a person. He didn't feel, real. 

Not to mention how hard it was to do _anything_. Each choice he made was torture after spending two years having a voice telling you how to do every little thing.

God, he hated his SQUIP.

Out of instinct, he braced himself for a shock. He stifled a laugh when nothing came. Right, he was rid of that fuckwad. 

Old habits die hard.

*****

One nice thing about spending two months in the hospital was that Rich didn't have to wait to grow his hair out. Which made it far easier to disguise himself in the halls of high school. Along with the black hair thanks to dye, wearing hoodies and glasses and his newfound hunched posture, it was almost impossible to recognize him.

Almost was the key word. Luckily, today was not the day someone realized that Richard Goranski was indeed alive, and did, indeed, still attend the same school as before and did not, in fact, flee town as the rumors stated. 

Navigating the halls was a lot easier when he spent less time trying to stomp around and spent more time dodging the other students around him. Yet another reason he loved being free of his SQUIP.

Rich quickly spun his combination into his lock and gathered his school supplies. Careful not to slam it shut, the lecture he received from the teacher across the hall still burned in mind, he carefully made his way to math.

The SQUIPed Rich wouldn't be so quiet. The SQUIPed Rich would have made his presence known. Which is probably why he felt a little better today. No one would recognize him because no one would ever think that Rich would ever think this way.

Sinking into the seat in the back, a seat specially requested, he hunched over his work. The SQUIPed Rich wouldn't hunch. But the new one would.

*****

Math was going on fine, or well, as fine as high school math can go, until a familiar pressure in the back of Rich's head began to form.

_Fuck fuck fuck not here, not in public._

[You honestly thought I was gone? You honestly thought that I could be disposed of that easily?]

[I am apart of you, Richard, and I always will be.]

_It's fake. Rich, you've looked this up a dozen times. It's just your brain filling in the gaps. You had it in your head for years, of course your brain is going to take a while to register that it's gone._

But it has been three months. Was it really going to take that long to get it in his head that it was gone?

Unless it wasn't…

[Richard, do not try and fool yourself. You are only making things worse.]

No, no! It was gone. It was killed. It was no more.

_It's all in your head. It's all in your head. It's all in your head._

And it was gone. A far better encounter than Rich had ever had. He didn't know whether to be ecstatic or worried.

Lifting his head up from his desk, he regained the slightest bit of composure as to not alert the teacher of anything suspicious.

He knew his SQUIP, no his _brain_ had more for him. He could only hope it would hold it until he got home.

*****

When the lunch bell rang across the school, Jeremy booked it to the cafeteria. Today, lunch was tacos, and he'd be damned if they ran out before he got one. 

The lines had barely started when he got there and getting lunch was a breeze compared to most days. 

He took his tray and found the groups' designated table. Not quite in a corner, but tucked away by the back wall, giving them a lot more privacy than the others could provide. 

Michael sat down next to him, slightly bobbing his head to the music he was playing with his headphones. He flashed Jeremy a smile before pulling out a slushie and sushi, the Michael norm.

Soon, one by one, the rest of the group sat down. Jenna, like most days, was the first to initiate a conversation.

"So, according to Isabella Sherman's freshman brother, Rich is still in town." She stated, giving eager glances to everyone at the table.

Jake slammed down his hand, fork clattering on the table. "What?! That son of a bitch dare stick around after what he did?!" Jake shouted just a tad bit too loud.

"Jake!" Brooke hissed, trying to get him to control his volume. The older boy clearly had no intention of doing so.

"Jake, he was SQUIPed. Can you really blame him?" Jeremy asked.

"Well, yeah, but he could resist it. I mean you did, didn't you?" Jake responded to a touch of sincerity in the last few words.

Jeremy paused, words dying in his mouth. Did he really resist it? He always thought it was Micheal who helped him come to his senses, but rethinking over did help point things out.

He very well could have chosen to follow the SQUIP. He had plenty of opportunities to follow every order without question, some of them he regretfully did.

But Rich had obeyed his in every sense. Never questioning, never making up his own mind. At least, until the fire.

"I had help from Micheal, Rich didn't really have friends." He saw a bit of an uncomfortable shift in Jake. "I, uh, I mean friends who knew about the SQUIP." Jeremy quickly corrected.

"I almost died in that fire, Jeremy. I don't think not having educated friends is a very good excuse for what he did." 

That shut Jeremy up.

The rest of lunch was painfully quiet, save for a few whispers from Jenna whenever something too exciting to keep hidden popped up in her dash.

The bell thankfully ended lunch and the awkward tension it carried. Everyone quickly dispersed, Jeremy heading to homeroom. 

If Rich really still was at the school, how come no one had noticed him? He was short, yeah, but he had a particularly big presence in the hallways. And he didn't seem like the hiding type when he talked to him in the hospital.

Though, he supposed it could be an act. After all, what did he truly know about Richard Goranski?


	2. On the Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The secret spills; now everyone knows Rich still attend Middleborough High.
> 
> And everyone hated him for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck everyone is so OOC in this chapter, I'm sorry

The bell rang throughout the halls, indicating one class left in the day. Rich was glad. It was Friday and only an hour separated him from a three-day weekend. Thank fuck for the stupid conference thing the school was holding.

Walking down the length of the hallway was almost torturous as soon as Jeremy's crew collected together. _Shit,_ Rich thought. Jake was leaning against the locker, his crutches beside him. There was no way through the hallway without crossing his line of sight. 

He ducked his head, careful to not make himself too obvious in the crowd. If he looked like he was trying to hide, he wouldn't be doing a very good job.

Fuck, this was so hard without a SQUIP. Just like everything was. The bastard really made him dependant, huh?

Before he knew it, he was at Language Arts. Sighing with relief, he shuffled to the back of the classroom and sank into his seat.

The board didn't have much on it, just the instructions to bring a pencil, and the teacher-

The teacher was a substitute.

Rich had sent an email to every teacher that he had, asking to not be called out in class. Blamed it on anxiety or some shit like that. All of them complied, some with a bit of difficult negotiation.

But a substitute wouldn't know. _Maybe they marked it down in the footnotes…_

The bell rang and everyone was in their seat. The substitute stood up, clipboard in hand. He walked over to the first desk in the first row, placing a hand down in front of it. "Edward Shand?" The boy at the gave a faint yes as a response, and the substitute moved on.

_Fuck._ At least if he was calling out names from the front, he could just not answer. But this was unavoidable.

"Alex Jones?" He was at the end of the first row. Two more to go and he'd be at Rich's desk.

He could play dumb. Act like he was in the wrong class. _Being in the wrong class for a whole fucking month doesn't sound too plausible, dipshit._

"Jake Dillinger?" Shit. He was halfway through the second row. 

"Jeremy Heere?" Five seats left. Four, now. Rich was white-knuckling his desk.

"Brittany Grudem?" Two seats left.

One.

"Richard Goranski?"

Rich felt a wave of muffled gasps fill the classroom. All eyes were on him. Including Jake's. 

"Richard Goranski?" The substitute asked again, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"Y-yeah…" Rich croaked out. This was it. He was dead. Jake's gaze never left him for the rest of attendance, burning with hatred. 

Jeremy kept his eyes on him as well, though it was more of a look of curiosity. And a lot of disappointment.

Paying attention in class was out of the question as soon as the substitute said his name. It was time to plan how to get out of this shit hole.

If he booked it, he could possibly make it into the boys' bathroom before anyone confronted him and hide out until the halls emptied. 

_If he booked it._

Being in the back of the classroom made the time margin of making it out incredibly minute. Maybe even impossible.

The period was halfway over when Rich glanced at the clock. _Fucking hell, the ONE TIME I want this class to take forever._

He scribbled a few ineligible words on his paper as the substitute walked by, sighing to himself. He idly doodled in the wordless gaps on his page, sparing a glance to Jake. 

His eyes were still trained on him, never looking away. He was so dead when class ended. Even with crutches, he knew Jake was fast. The boys' bathroom was at the other end of the hallway. So dead.

Glancing up at the clock again, he swore internally. It was a minute until the bell rang. 

There was a nervous hustle around the room, one that annoyed the substitute. But it was more than just being antsy to get home. It was the oncoming fight that everyone was excited to see.

The bell rang and Rich almost fell over with the speed that he stood up. He shoved everyone out of his way, trying his best to ignore their verbal objections.

He just needed to get lost amongst the crown and he would be safe. He would be fine. A three day weekend to figure out how to figure out his shit.

"Rich, you get the fuck back here!" Jake yelled, navigating through the sea of students with Jeremy at his side. _No no no nononono._

Despite everything in him telling him not to, Rich turned around. A wide clearing was formed as students backed away from him and Jake. 

"You were hiding here, like the little shit you are!" Jake snarled, using his braced knee to support him as he jabbed a crutch in Rich's direction.

[Quite the preeicampre you are in, Richard. If you obey me, everything will turn out fine.]

_I'm not listening to you. You're not real, you're not real._

"I'm talking to you, Rich!" The taller boy yelled again. The crowd around them was buzzing with energy, eagerly awaiting a reaction from Rich. 

[Repeat after me, Richard.]

_Never!_

[Then I guess you will have to live with being pummeled to a pulp.]

Rich paused, glancing around him. If he messed this up, he was screwed. 

_Fine._

[Good.]

There was a faint buzzing as he awaited a command. Jake sneered, preparing another insult. 

[I know where your foster home is, Jake.]

"I know where your foster home is, Jake," Rich said sternly. He cringed as he lisped, bringing a hand up to slap himself out of habit. Luckily for him, it didn't encourage Jake in the slightest. In fact, he almost looked a bit scared by the action. 

[I wouldn't take any chances if I were you. I still have plenty of gasoline left over.]

"I wouldn't take any chances if I were you. I still have plenty of gasoline leftover!" He yelled a bit too loudly. Jake backed down, fear filling his eyes as he withdrew from the ring. Instead, Jeremy filled his place. 

Then the students surged. Collectively, they all slowly moved forward. 

[Stand your ground.]

Rich's arms shook with fatigue from holding his supplies for so long. He saw an opening, he could take it. 

_[I said stand your ground.]_

A thousand thoughts filled his head, swirling around. Why was he listening to his SQUIP? He needed to run. 

_**[I said stand your ground.]** _

But it was too late. He dropped his supplies on the hallway floor and bolted. Slipping between two students, he slipped and struggled to regain composure. It was enough time for Jeremy to realize what he was doing and give chase.

Rich slid down the length of the hallway, snow and slush tracked in by students making it nearly impossible to keep traction. That didn't stop him from trying. The hallways were too congested to get through, he needed to get outside.

He thanked himself for always wearing a hoodie. He squeezed his way through the back doors of the school, his shoes slamming down on the pavement below him. He heard a couple of shouts, signaling that Jeremy was already outside.

Cutting across the school baseball field, Rich tried his best to ignore the seeping wetness in his shoes. Ahead of him was a thicket of trees. If he could make it there, he could lose Jeremy.

He pushed himself further, feet stiff from the cold. He made it to the thicket and wiped out.

A patch of ice was behind him, dirtied snow beneath him.

He wanted to cry. Scratch that, he was crying. Large, ugly tears. He heard the snow give out below another set of feet and closed his eyes in defeat. Jeremy caught up.

At least he wouldn't have to face his dad before he passed out.

*****

Jeremy wanted to think better of Rich. He wanted to think his SQUIP was the reason he acted so different. Now he knew. He was no different.

If he was, why the fuck would he threaten Jake with arson? But when he found Rich crying in the thicket of trees behind the school, he felt his thoughts falter. 

He had no idea what compelled him to chase Rich, now that he was here with him cornered. He really wished he hadn't given in to the thought.

He heard the light shuffling of fabric on fabric and looked down to see Rich looking up at him. It kind of shocked Jeremy to see how similar he looked up close. The glasses were fake, plastic lenses clouded with dust. He really hoped he hadn't been back at Middleborough for a while, otherwise, that meant that his measly hair dye managed to keep him hidden.

"What do you want?" Rich whispered weakly, no fight left to give. Jeremy opened his mouth to answer until he realized, _Rich wasn't talking to him._

He stared off, eyes unfocused. He wasn't looking at anything in particular, which easier Jeremy's nerves. Only slightly, though.

"Rich?" Jeremy whispered. The shorter boy jumped, gaze focusing on the person in front of him.

"I, I hear it. I hear it still but it should be gone. It, it's so _loud._ So fucking loud…" Rich mumbled, both his voice and eyes drifting off towards the end. 

Jeremy let out a stifled gasp. He heard his SQUIP sometimes. Sometimes. He wished. It was normally quiet, nothing beyond a whisper, but it was getting abnormally loud and Jeremy didn't know who to confine to.

"I hear he sometimes too," Jeremy whispered. Rich shot up, hands clinging to the lengths of his hair.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck! It's real, it's real, why the fuck did I listen to it?! Oh God, I'm such a fucking idiot-" he was cut off by a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sure it's just our heads. I mean, like you said, it feels empty without it." Jeremy recited, remembering their time in the hospital together. Rich let out a groan.

"I was so high on painkillers that day. I don't think either of us can trust anything I said." Pausing, he glanced around him. "Besides the Bi part." He added quickly.

Jeremy chuckled a bit, Rich responding with his own. 

Rich stood up slowly, looking up at Jeremy. "Could we get someplace warm before you do whatever you intend to do?"

Jeremy nodded. "You still have a car, right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edits in the future


	3. Drive Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy and Rich get a little closer as the school re-awakens from the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character development is not my strong suit. Can you tell?
> 
> Probably.

Rich nervously trudged through his footprints in the nearly-untouched snow behind the school, Jeremy somewhat close to his side.

He knew he had to do it. What opportunity was better than this?

_Calmly, calmly. You gotta say it calmly._

"I'm really sorry for bullying the shit out of you." Rich blurted. So much for calmly. Jeremy glanced over, a small frown resting on his face.

"Why did it make you do it?" He asked. Rich rubbed the back of his neck, looking down in shame.

"It said that, that you had a 92% chance of becoming popular…" Rich trailed off, eyes going a bit glassy. He shook his head a little. "And if you did, it said that you would push me out of the group. It only let me convince you to get a SQUIP after my position in the group was stable. God, I really fucked up your life, didn't I?"

Jeremy looked down at his cardigan, then back to Rich. "I was going to be popular?"

"Yeah, and I fucked it up." Rich sighed. He jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder. 

"No. Your SQUIP did." Jeremy stated somewhat condescendingly.

"No. It told me to, I'm the one who carried out the order." Rich snarked back.

The taller boy rolled his eyes. "Essentially the same thing."

"Yeah, well, your's told you to SQUIP the whole school. I don't quite think that happened, do you?" Rich stepped onto the sidewalk, his shoes and pant legs soaked.

Jeremy opened his mouth to respond, but the words died in his throat. He _knew_ Rich was wrong. He just didn't know how to put it into coherent words. But Rich took it as a sign of victory. "Told you." He huffed.

Passing by the school doors, Jeremy stopped. Rich turned around with a questioning look. "Why are you stopping."

"Aren't, y'know, you gonna go get your stuff?" Jeremy asked, pointing to the school door with his thumb. Rich let out a brisk laugh.

"Based on how everyone was acting, my stuff is already gone. Plus, the doors are locked." He stuck a hand into his hoodie pocket and shuffled around a bit. He pulled it out, keys in his grasp. "No need to grab it anyways."

They reached the parking lot, shivering and huddled closer together than before. Rich sped up his pace a little and clicked the unlock button on his keys. A rusty pickup truck blinked in response. They quickly clambered into the vehicle, Rich quick to turn on the heat.

"Finally here. Thought I was going to freeze out there." Rich said, unaware of his lisp slightly returning. Jeremy didn't miss it, though.

"You have a lisp?" He asked before he could stop himself. Rich froze, chuckling a bit before flat out laughing.

"Thank God. Stupid computer freak made me get rid of it." He brought his hands to the steering wheel and drummed his fingers against it. In reality, he hated his lisp. But it brought normality. Something the SQUIP had taken away that he had reclaimed. It was his, something Rich would only have without a SQUIP. He needed that.

Rich didn't quite realize he was holding his breath until he let it go. "We should probably get going." Jeremy sighed, glancing out the window. "Micheal's my ride and he already left. No telling how worried he is."

Rich nodded. "Right. Do you want me to drop you off? I, uh, shit." He mumbled, drawing his phone from his pocket. Clicking the side button, his eyes widened when he saw the time. 4:34. "We should probably leave now."

Jeremy glanced at the time and gave a nod. "Sounds good. You can honestly just drop me off at Micheal's, I was planning on staying there for the weekend anyways."

Rich nodded. He jammed the key into the ignition and leaned back into his seat. The old truck rumbled as the engine came to life.

Pulling out of the school parking lot, he glanced over at Jeremy. "Gonna need directions, dude. I didn't stalk headphones or anything."

Jeremy flushed and turned towards the window. "It's by the park close to the mall." Rich gave him a quizzical look. "J-just turn right."

After turning, Rich sighed. "So, what were you gonna do back at the trees?"

The brunette's eyes had a flash of panic behind them. "Honestly, I really don't know. I-I was kinda acting on impulse…"

After settling into a comfortable position, Rich glanced over at Jeremy and snorted. "Really pissed you off with those threats, did I?"

"Turn left here," Jeremy muttered, drumming his fingers on his thigh. "Of course you pissed me off with that! Jake's been, struggling, with his foster parents."

Rich's sarcastic smile melted into a more, uncomfortable one. He furrowed his brow. "One good thing…" he muttered.

"What the fuck, Rich?!" Jeremy exclaimed.

"Wait, no, shit, I uh-" Rich panicked. "I meant that it fucked up. My SQUIP, like, damnit. Every little thing it does wrong is, it's a victory for me. A little bit of myself I've reclaimed." 

Jeremy glanced down. "Right, then the second house to your left." Rich obliged, pulling into Micheal's driveway. As quickly as he could, Jeremy got out of the car and hastily trudged his way up to the door.

Rich pulled out of the driveway, smile now completely gone as he mentally cursed himself. _Can't do shit without the fucking computer, can you? Dumbass._

Luckily for him, he knew the area well. It didn't take long for him to get back home.

*****

Sitting on his bed, Rich scrolled through his Twitter feed. Well, through a hashtag. One he hadn't looked over in a long time. 

#MiddleboroughUnit

_Yeah right. More like '#FuckRichGoranski'._

The hashtag had died down around two weeks after the fire when the anger had died down and Jeremy was the latest news. 'Ecstasy Kid' as they called him.

But now that Rich had reappeared, the hashtag had blown up.

_"Can't believe Rich has the guts to show up to school #fire #MiddleboroughUnit"_

_"The psychopath is back and ready for more. Did you hear what he said to @jakeyDeep? #psycho #arson #MiddleboroughUnit"_

_"rich is going 2 regret showing his sorry face @ school again!!!! #middleboroughunit"_

He sighed, collapsed back onto his pillow. He deserved it. That was the worst part.

There was no playing the pity card. There was no magical turn around when everyone realized he did nothing wrong.

He chose to listen to it. He chose to become dependant on it. He chose fire as his grand exit like the fucking moron he was.

No matter how much it hurt to look at Tweet after Tweet, he couldn't stop himself.

The truth hurt, but pain could be good. It sure as hell felt good now. Better than whatever shithole he had before.

*****

When Jeremy sped down the basement stairs, he was not expecting to see Micheal in the state that he was.

"Jeremy, oh thank God you're ok!" The Filipino exclaimed. He held a lit joint between his fingers, and based off of his appearance, Jeremy guessed he had been working on it for a while. 

"Why wouldn't I be?" Jeremy inquired, taking off his cardigan and tossing it onto a beanbag.

"Uh, because you just chased _Richard Goranski_ into that tree thicket and didn't show up until two hours later!" He took a drag off of his joint. "You can't just do that, dude!"

Micheal snapped his head to his school bag, which was leaning against the farthest wall from Jeremy. Haphazardly sprinting over, he shuffled through it before pulling out his phone. "The group chat's been blowing up about you."

Jeremy took out his own phone, checking his texts. Micheal was right. Most of the texts were directed towards Jake, but there were a decent amount meant for him.

_**SquipSquad (Online: 4)** _

**❤️Chrissy❤️:**

_Jeremy, are you ok? Please don't get you or Rich hurt, no matter how much you think he deserves it <3 _

**Queen Bitch👑:**

_Beat him to a pulp, jere. Show him what happens when you mess w/ middleborough_

**Newsie:**

_Ya, what Chloe said. Don't forget to tell us everything!!!!_

**❤️Chrissy❤️:**

_Jenna! Can you at least show a little respect?!_

Jeremy chuckled as the conversation slowly drifted to all of the bad habits Christine and Jenna had. "Sorry. Kinda, got caught up with him."

"What did you even do to him?" Micheal asked, sinking into his designated beanbag.

Putting his phone back in his pocket, Jeremy waved the question away with a hand. "Doesn't matter. I'll tell you later." He too sat down in a beanbag and leaned back. "Apocalypse of the Damned?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edits in the future


	4. What's the Problem?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy explained himself to his friends and Rich has a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for: fires, suicide references and attempts  
> It you want me to add more just ask, I'll happily oblige :)

_**SquipSquad (Online: 7)** _

**GiveAndJake:**

_I just can't believe that he really came back_

**GiveAndJake:**

_I'm just so mad_

**GiveAndJake:**

_I really can't out it into wordsp_

**GiveAndJake:**

_Put*_

Jeremy sighed. The group chat had been never-ending notifications the whole night. Eventually, Micheal and Jeremy resigned to just talking about Rich's return.

**YOU:**

_He didnt mean harm_

**Queen Bitch👑:**

_Finally, you showed up_

**Queen Bitch👑:**

_What did you even do to him?_

**YOU:**

_Doesnt matter_

**Newsie:**

_U don't just get to chase Rich and NOT tell us what happened!!!!_

**YOU:**

_Guys I just wanna talk w micheal_

**YOU:**

_You guys made us stop aotd and that doesn't slide_

**FroyoGal🍨:**

_how did you get home? mike's usually your ride and he left before you got back._

**MellowYellow:**

_Brooke we've talked bout the Mike nickname_

**FroyoGal🍨:**

_sorry._

Micheal paused, looking up from his phone. With his whole panic of Jeremy chasing Rich he never considered how he got back. "Brooke brings up a good point, Jeremy."

"I walked." Jeremy huffed.

Micheal rolled his eyes. "Jeremy, it's a thirty-minute walk from school to my house. I know for a fact that you didn't walk that. How did you get here?"

Jeremy sighed. "I'm in better shape than you think?" He offered.

The Filipino cocked an eyebrow. "You are an awful liar, you know that, right?"

The brunette sank back into the beanbag. "Look, does it really matter that much?"

"If you're lying about it, then it does."

Jeremy sighed in defeat and looked away. "Rich drove me home." He mumbled. It was barely audible, but it was enough for Micheal to jump out of his beanbag in surprise.

"You drove home with him?!?" Micheal exclaimed, picking up his glasses from where they were flung off his face. "H-he's unstable, insane even! He burned down a house for fuck's sake! You heard what he said to Jake, he's clearly not right in the head!"

"He wasn't like that. He seemed, well, he seemed normal." Jeremy wrung his hands. "I don't really see why it's such a big deal."

"The dude's a fucking psychopath! He had a computer in his head for almost two years! I don't really think that he's your average definition of normal!" Micheal was bouncing from one foot to the other, running his hands through his hair.

Jeremy didn't want to deal with this. "Fine, I'll stay away from him, or, whatever."

This satisfied Micheal enough for him to sit down again. They picked up on the group chat for the rest of the night, too mentally exhausted with the events of the day to really try and work anything out.

Why was it such a big deal that Jeremy talked to Rich? He wasn't a serial killer or anything. At least, he hoped.

*****

_It was off. Thank God. He had downed just enough alcohol to shut it down. He hated that. That alcohol was the only way to shut it off. Made him feel like his dad. He wanted to feel like anything but his dad._

_"Does anyone have any Mountain Dew Red?" He called out. The party had died down and only around half of the people originally there still mulled about._

_When he got no response, Rich felt himself growing antsy. It would be back soon. God, it never felt like long enough whenever he downed that hideous liquid._

_"It's like normal Mountain Dew but red!" Still no response. People were starting now. Fuck, even though he hated that Siri wannabe, it sure made him feel safe. Fucking bastard._

_It was turning back on. The familiar whirring in the back of his head. "Seriously where the fuck can I get some Mountain Dew Red!?" He yelled out in a last-ditch effort._

_As the SQUIP slowly booted back up, he saw Jeremy wall up to him and start talking. None of the words ever registered, though. Not when the SQUIP was in charge._

_"Warning. Warning. Warning." He announced as the SQUIP puppeted him out of the room._ I was so close.

_[Keep telling yourself that, Richard.]_

Shut the fuck up.

_Richard jumped when a shock traveled down his spine._

_[Remember your etiquette. You cannot afford to lose anymore reputation. From the looks of it, you've screwed yourself over significantly tonight alone.]_

_He needed out. He couldn't do this anymore, he couldn't be a fucking puppet anymore. He wasn't a doll for display, he was a fucking human being!_

_It took all of his strength to heave himself over to a beer can sitting on the counter. Ignoring his SQUIP's painful protests, he downed the rest of the can with a swift movement of his arm. A smile grew on his face as the electric blue sizzled away from his sight._

_He suddenly found himself very alone. Not literally, of course. There were still plenty of people in the house. No, he was alone in a far different way._

_There was no Mountain Dew Red left, why the hell was he thinking there was?! His SQUIP was permanent. It would never leave._

_Never gone. Never alone. Never given a fucking break._

_He couldn't do this. The facade, the assholery, the shocks. He couldn't watch himself without having any real input anymore. He was done. So fucking done._

_He needed out._

_The sounds of things falling to the floor didn't reach his ears. He was too busy searching. For what? He had no idea. Something deadly enough it wouldn't hurt._

_Too much._

_The kitchen. Yes, the kitchen. He stumbled his way there, high off of his own freedom and the need for release._

_Drawers clattered on the linoleum floor as he quickly scavenged the area. He was about to give up when a small box in a drawer of miscellaneous junk caught his eye. A matchbox._

_It would do the trick. He knew there was stuff in the garage that would burn. He had seen it himself._

_He pocketed the box and booked it to the garage. It couldn't come soon enough._

_The cold air felt relieving, but only for a second. A red canister was the only thing he could focus on. He grabbed it and quickly headed back inside. He needed privacy. Yes. Privacy._

_He saw someone in a black shirt with words he could bother to read slip out of the downstairs bathroom. There, there would be where he did it._

_The sound of the door locking was something of a dream. He dumped the contents of the red canister. It partially landed on his pants and shoes, though mostly on the floor. He couldn't bother to care._

_Rich pulled out the matchbox and fumbled with the sticks inside. He struck one quickly, watching as it flickered to life._

_It danced on the stick. His future, his demise, his release. It was beautiful, not because of the way it looked or danced. No no, it was beautiful for what it offered._

_"Goodbye," Rich muttered before he dropped it._

_The pain was far more than he bargained for._

_It quickly lit up the gasoline, crawling up his clothing and eating his clothes. He let out a scream and slammed the bathroom door open, the lock far too complicated than it should have been._

_Students around him screamed as he fell onto the floor, flames lapping at everything they could. A stampede of youth clogged the exits as many called 911._

_A whirring in the back of his mind started and he could have screamed in frustration. He probably did._

_[You will not did to this, Richard. I will not let you succumb to such a pathetic death as suicide.]_

_Rich felt his limbs move involuntarily as he rolled on the ground. He didn't even register half of the process. By some work of magic and a lot of rolling, the flames were put out. Well, the flames on him. The rest of the house was falling apart._

_His legs pushed himself off of the ground and moved him towards the stairs. He fought, he really did, but his SQUIP would not allow it._

_[You will survive this, and you will regret pulling this little stunt.]_

_He grabbed ahold of the banister, which he immediately regretted due to its heat. With everything he could muster, he forced himself back down the stairs and into the living room._

_"No, I- I will do this." He practically screamed through clenched teeth._

_It took everything in him to keep himself there. Just a teenager standing in the middle of a burning building. He would have laughed at the thought if he wasn't so focused on not moving._

_"Ri- Rich!" A voice cut through the smoke and haze, touching and wheezing._ No.

_"Rich, you gotta go!"_ No, no, no no no.

_Jake grabbed hold of Rich's forearm and tugged. "Rich please!"_

_Rich almost fell over with nausea. "I-I can't. I can't I can't I can't."_

_Jake tugged harder and actually started dragging Rich towards the stairs. All of the other exits were gone. "Rich, come on, please man!"_

_Rich wouldn't comply. He couldn't do this, he couldn't be so close and not finally see the end. "I can't, I can't, I-I can't Jake just leave me here please!"_

_Jake stopped only for a second, hoisting Rich over his shoulder. He stumbled around the upper part of the building, finding his room. A tree branch was just outside of the window, perfect for an escape._

_Jake opened the window and pushed Rich towards the branch. A combination of survival instincts and his SQUIP made him hold on. He felt his limbs shuffled himself down the branch._

_He was nearly at the trunk of the tree when a sickening crack split through the air. He jumped the remaining distance from the branch to the trunk as it fell to the ground, leaving Jake stranded._

_Rich felt his chest squeeze when he saw Jake take a running leap out of the window. He screamed as he saw the taller teen fall down, down, down, until he stopped. He nearly vomited when he heard the impact._

_He shimmied his way down the rest of the tree and ran over to Jake. One of his legs looked bruised but otherwise fine. It was the other that was the problem._

_Mangled to the point of looking inhuman, Rich squeezed his eyes shut and stumbled away._

_[Look what you did, Richard. You ruined him. You ruined yourself.]_

_He fell to the ground, clutching himself as tears and sobs racked his body. Sirens wailed in the distance and he felt as if he was going to be sick._

_This wasn't happening, this wasn't-_

Rich woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for breath in his bed.

He didn't have this dream, or, well, memory often, but when he did it was painful. Every little detail placed for him to see, and it never showed signs of dulling.

Of course, it wouldn't, it was for Richard Goranski. Since when did life take it easy on him?

Checking his clock, he sighed when he saw it was only three in the morning. He might as well get dressed. There was no going back to sleep after that.


	5. Mall Trips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rich goes to the mall (it was a bad decision).

Rich was currently sitting in the food court of the Menlo Park Mall. It was a stupid, irrational decision, especially with the recent events at school, but it was the only place where he could loiter without raising suspicion. His older brother, Seth, decided that he wanted to stay at Goranski residence for a change. Something Rich saw as entirely idiotic, Seth was living with his girlfriend, why would he ever return home?

But, as per usual, when Seth decided that he wanted a change of scenery, Rich's older brother had gotten into a shouting match with his father. He had the right instinct to flee the house as soon as the bickering had started, and the mall was his only option. He'd give it around five in the evening until he could return, and it was currently one. 

In front of him lay the assigned book in Language Arts. He was drastically behind in his classes, his phone was only at 64%, and he had a feeling he would need it later.

His hood was carefully adjusted to cover his face, something he could freely do here, unlike in school.

No one was paying mind to him, a wonderful feeling. Slipping away into the background was something Rich enjoyed far more than he thought he would. Something he didn't get nearly enough of. Something he-

_Shit._

Of course, _of-fucking-course_. Run-of-the-mill luck for Rich, couldn't get a fucking break.

There was a somewhat loud clatter of noise as the mall doors opened to reveal the popular kids. Chloe and Brooke were off to the side, Jenna very obviously third-wheeling and desperate for attention. Jake and Jeremy were chatting up a storm from the looks of their expression, and Micheal, following the "Micheal Norm," was wearing his classic white headphones and slightly bobbing his head to whatever reggae was playing on them while offering a couple of snippets of a conversation to Christine.

Quickly, Rich hid his face and pulled his book up closer, hoping his hair would conceal the rest. He had a new backpack, was wearing entirely different clothes than SQUIPped Rich wore, and was borderline fetal position. The odds were in his favor until the popular kids sat down at the table next to him. Yay. He managed to grasp some semblance of luck because Jake had his back to him. However, Jeremy did not. Double yay.

Their last interaction was less than desirable, and Rich didn't want to gamble with the after-effects. He could get up and leave right now, but that would draw attention to him. Any attention could blow his cover.

His grip on the book grew tighter as he considered his options. Ah, yes, his Post-SQUIP decision melt-downs. He thought he had gotten over them by now, but, of course, fate decided otherwise. It took him three hours to pick out a shirt alone his first day back at the house. Thank God it was the weekend. 

Both of his options had equal chances of backfiring. Maybe not, though. There could be a third option he was too stressed to think about, and, and there were so many ways he could get up and leave! What if he only needed to do one thing, and he was too goddamn stupid to figure it out?!

Before his thoughts could spiral any further, Rich felt his hand falter, and the book slip from his grasp and fall back down onto the table. He immediately ducked his head down as he heard the chatter from the table next to him slightly dim. His nose was almost touching the pages, and he could hardly breathe. _God fucking damnit, you only dropped a book. Stop acting like the world is going to end!_

Rich got so caught up in his thoughts that he hardly heard the small-talk finally cease. He hardly noticed the popular kids standing up from their seats. He most certainly did not notice Jake Dillinger walking over to his table and slamming his fist down on it - well, not until he did so.

"So Goranski decided that he could actually show his fucking face in public, huh?" The taller jock sneered. Rich drew in his limbs and remained silent.

"You'd think he'd jump at the opportunity to monologue with how noisy he was at the party," Chloe remarked, eyes never leaving her phone screen. Jenna was too glued to her phone, but for an entirely different reason. 

"Are you going to respond?" Jake asked again, hand poised to slam the table once more.

"Guys, if we want to get to Sbarro's, we should probably get going." Jeremy pipped up from behind Jenna and Chloe. Jake shot him a glare.

"You already got a shot at Rich; now it's my turn."

Rich slightly unfurled and brought his gaze higher, though it didn't quite reach Jake's eyes. Instead, it lingered on the sleeves of his letterman jacket.

"Gonna fucking talk?!"

"Could you just leave me alone?" Rich asked, voice hushed. 

Jake's face contorted into something between anger and amusement, and it did not fit well. "Leave you alone?! Leave you alone?! Oh, sure, yeah! I'll leave you alone, sounds great! Yeah, the last time I left you alone sure turned out well, didn't it? The whole housefire was a nice ending to my sporting career." Jake snarked, forced, angry laughs harshly biting at Rich. The shorter boy tensed at the mention of the fire.

"My dad said I should be home by two-thirty, we should go and eat now," Jeremy suggested, a little louder than before. To Rich's usual luck, no one listened to him.

"How much do you bet he's gonna cry?" Chloe remarked, sparing a glance towards Rich. 

"Ten bucks." Jenna pitched in, finally prying her gaze away from her phone.

"I'd say 30, based on the way he's hiding." Jake butted in.

"Can you guys just leave him alone?!" Jeremy shouted, a tad bit too loud. He gained stares from everyone in the group and a couple of people who were idly standing by. He was this far already, why not push a little more? "Rich hasn't done anything to us, yet we go out of our way to harass him. We wouldn't have even known he was here if it weren't for that sub. Can we just get pizza and not bother Rich?"

There was a long pause of silence before Christine decided to add her two cents to the situation. "I heard that there's a new fountain by Sbarro's! Maybe we could go toss a coin or two?"

Bless Christine. 

The thespian turned to skip off towards Sbarro before anyone could respond. With an almost-collective sigh, the rest of the group followed. Jeremy lagged, shooting Rich a distressed look. Rich didn't bother to give one back.

*****

"What the hell was that, Heere?"

Jake had pulled Jeremy off to the side right before the entrance to the mall. Everyone else had already gotten back into their respective cars. The two were supposedly talking about some boy stuff or some shit. Jeremy hadn't bothered to listen to the excuse Jake had made.

"Rich is honestly a good guy. Is it too much to ask just to leave him alone?"

"Fine. But that's it! I don't want your stupid pity parties for him all up in my face. I have enough shit to deal with in my life already, got it, Heere?"

Jeremy frowned as he nodded, but before he could respond, Jake has already turned around and headed towards the parking lot. He was incredibly agile, considering the fact that he was on crutches.

Rich was different. Jeremy knew it. He just needed to know how to show that to the rest of the gang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup!  
> Updates should speed up a little soon, so tune in for that :)


	6. Texting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Texty-texty with a little bootleg therapy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grammarly was fucking PISSED with me on this one

Rich and Jeremy never really hung out together, unlike what Rich had promised. Jeremy was busy getting popular and Rich, well, Jeremy didn't know how Rich busied himself. Nevertheless, the two scarcely saw each other outside of school, other than a few deviant moments being when the popular squad went on their usual outings to the mall. Hell, they didn't even have each other's phone numbers. Why text when the computer inside your head kept you updated at all times?

So Jeremy, sitting on his bed, at his home on a Saturday night, was wholly lost when it came to contacting Rich. Sure, he could feasibly find his school email, but who checked that anymore? Certainly not Jeremy. 

He was down to one option to communicate with Rich, lest he wait until the weekend finished and waste valuable time. So, now he was sitting at home on a Saturday night, texting Jenna Roland about Rich's phone number.

**_Newsie (Private Chat)_ **

**YOU:**

_I need a favr_

**YOU:**

_favor*_

**Newsie:**

_What??_

**YOU:**

_Do you have richs phone #?_

**Newsie:**

_Course_

**Newsie:**

_y do u need it???_

**YOU:**

_Want to talk to him_

**Newsie:**

_hmmmmmm_

**YOU:**

_Jenna cmon_

**Newsie:**

_Fine but if jake gets mad this was all u_

Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief as Jenna texted him Rich's number. He slid to his previous apps and revisited a doc that he had opened. There was his pre-written message to Rich. So what he wanted to combat his anxiety by making sure he couldn't back out, sue him.

He highlighted the paragraph and copied it to his clipboard. Going back to his messages, he clicked on the number. The menu popped up, and he clicked on 'Message.' Except, he didn't.

He clicked on 'Call.'

Which would have been fine, had Rich not immediately answered said call.

_"Hello?"_

_Who the hell answers their phone that quickly?! Who the hell answers for_ unknown numbers _that quickly?!?_ Jeremy stuttered out a slew of half-words that collectively meant absolutely nothing. He could _feel_ the confusion that Rich felt.

_"Jeremy?"_

Jeremy froze at the sound of his name. There was no going back now. "Y-yeah,"

_"Wha-, wh- how? How'd you get my number? Wai-, just, nevermind. Why are you calling me??"_

The brunette sighed inwardly and mentally prepared himself for all the ways this could be fucked up. "I, uh, well, it-it was a real dick move of Jake to keep ha- _pestering_ you at the mall earlier today." He glanced at the clock on his nightstand, which read 6:54. "I wanted to make sure that you're ok, cause, cause you kinda didn't look too good at t-the mall."

There were several beats of silence on the other end before a response. _"So, a pity call."_

Jeremy almost dropped his phone as he scrambled, both mentally and physically. "N-no! I, I just wanna, just wanna, uh," he felt his mind lagging. "Just wanna, make, yeah! Make sure that you are feeling ok? It's, it's, uh, a, concern call. Yeah, a concern call!"

Rich held his tongue.

"L-look man, I, I don't want to intrude on your life o-or anything, but you don't look too hot. Or, didn't, I uh, I mean didn't, yeah, cause, like, it's not like I can see you right now or anything, that would be really creepy, and I don't even know where you live so how would I see you, if you're even at your house! I mean, you could _totally_ be anywhere else r-right now and-" Jeremy cut himself off when he realized he was rambling, and cleared his through. "Uh, that's beside the point. _Anyways_ , I know the SQUIP isn't fun, _gah_ , I mean, has it _ever_ been fun? But, if you, like, need help or anything, like, emotional support or s-something, then, well, you can always talk to me."

The sound of shuffling filled the speaker, and the _beep_ than indicated an ended call ensued a second later. Jeremy dropped his phone onto his bed and let his head fall into his hands. _Goddamnit, why do I even try? He doesn't want my support, like, just remember the mall! He-_

Jeremy's phone buzzing with a new notification pulled him from his spiraling thoughts. He dejectedly reached for the device and opened it. His interest slightly grew when he saw that it was a text.

**Unknown Number (Private Chat)**

**Unknown Number:**

_Its Rich. Sorry for just hanging up like that. If possible, could I come over tomorrow to just talk? Sorry if Im being a bother._

Smiling, Jeremy quickly responded.

**YOU:**

_Course dude! I got no plans, was just gonna be bored all day_

He sent him his address and closed his phone. Maybe it would work out the way he wanted.

*****

It was not working out the way he wanted

Rich said that he would be coming over at 11:15, and it was currently 11:12. Jeremy's room was a mess, the dryer was just started (and it was motherfucking loud), and he had just spilled a whole cup of orange juice on himself. While racing up the stairs to try and pull a lightning-fast shower, he heard the tell-tail noise of Rich's ratty truck pulling into the driveway.

Showering was out of the window.

Shucking his stained shirt in favor of a dry one, he booked it down the stairs in time to hear Rich give a few quick knocks on the door. He fumbled with the lock a lot longer than he should have before chucking the door open.

Rich was wearing a grey sweatshirt that was partially opened to reveal a red flannel underneath. He looked cold.

"Uh, hey! Do, you, uh, wanna come in?" Jeremy offered, stepping away from the door and raising. Rich nodded and stepped inside, shedding his shoes.

Jeremy inwardly cringed as Rich registered in the state of the house. His silence was nerve-wracking. "Nice house."

Jeremy eased as he lead the shorter teen to the living room. "Uh, feel free to take a seat if you'd like. I'm, uh, I'm gonna go grab some food for, for u-us."

Rich took in Jeremy's words and sat down on the couch, a little too stiff for Jeremy's liking. He shuffled over to the kitchen where a family-sized bag of kettle chips sat. Hey may-or-may-not have stolen it from the Jeremy-Micheal Gaming session stash, sue him. 

Jeremy tossed Rich the bag as the brunette re-entered the living room. He sat down relatively close to Rich and laid back into the cushions. "So, you got anything you wanna talk about?"

Rich fiddled with the zipper on his sweatshirt. "I, uh, God this is going to sound pathetic but, I kind of just want to hang out? It, it gets kind of lonely at home, and Seth is just dicking around with dad and, I just wanted not be there."

Jeremy pipped up. "Oh! Well, I have a lot of games upstairs if you just want to kill time." He offered. Rich beamed up at hime and boy, did he live for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is crucial that I tell you that the ways I referred to the SQUIP were autocorrected to dumpster several times


End file.
